


Marriott Downtown

by cyus (cruentum)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Chair Sex, Crossdressing, Forced Feminization, M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruentum/pseuds/cyus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They spend a night in a L.A. hotel room with a bit of alcohol and a lot of time, and Bradley's not a girl but when Jensen says it just like that, how can he protest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marriott Downtown

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on LJ 1/11/11

"Hold still," Jensen whispers.

Bradley's not responsible for the sounds in his throat, or for his cock being hard or for wanting to lean forward and taste a bit of whiskey and a bit of American spit and other people on Jensen's lips.

"Hold still," Colin repeats from the corner of the hotel room, admonishing and a bit needy, from somewhere to the right of Bradley, where he's balancing soda with or without JD on his knee and Bradley wants to look and wants to crawl under the covers at the same time, face buried in Colin's crotch, smearing red and black over pasty white skin. Colin's fingers would curl around his head, uncoordinated with too much alcohol and too much jetlag.

Jensen's thumb digs into his jaw and Bradley pushes his hips up, presses his cock to Jensen's thigh.

"Impatient," Jensen says and his tongue inches out to the corner of his lips as he's concentrating on Bradley's eyes that Bradley's trying to hold open, and he tears up and Jensen just smiles at him. Everything's too hot and everything's too tight and if he's too drunk he'd like to be a little more drunk, please.

Jensen drags his nails over Bradley's stubble, down his throat to the neck of his t-shirt. "Someone's got to be the girl," Jensen says into Bradley's ear, all warm puffs of air and wet slide of tongue to his lobe, and, "you're pretty."

L.A.'s still asleep outside, all greys in grey with neon splatters that filter in through the window into the dark room. Colin slurps his drink and Jensen drags his fingers down Bradley's side and worms his hand under the shirt to Bradley's stomach and up to his chest, fingertips tickling up to his armpits and down the trails of sweat, nerves and arousal. Bradley pushes his hips up, arse off the chair, and rides out the small pulses of blood and heartbeat against Jensen's hip.

"He likes it," Jensen says, carding the fingers of his free hand through Bradley's hair and turning his head to face Colin as he brushes at sweat-damp strands, tucking them behind Bradley's ear, skimming knuckles down his jaw.

Bradley can't make out his eyes, can only make out the vague outline of Colin's hand shifting against his crotch. 

"Mmm," Jensen murmurs into Bradley's ear, clamping a hand on Bradley's thigh when the hotel room door opens and closes and Bradley's near out of the chair. "Shhh," Jensen says and lips and tongue and teeth set to his jaw he tips Bradley's face around until Bradley can make Colin out in the periphery of his vision, through streaks of lashes and darkness, and Jensen's other person crossing the room. He and Jensen kiss, his hand on the nape of Jensen's neck and then he moves on towards Colin.

Colin and he converse in hushed tones, Colin's slurred and heavy and low and all bitten off syllables and his hand on Jensen's one's hip until he kneels down and takes the glass from Colin's fingers, sips as he looks over his shoulder at Bradley with Jensen's teeth biting bruises to his skin, Bradley's cock rubbing in slow rolling movements against Jensen's hip. Bradley clenches his fingers around the hem of Jensen's shirt.

"Are you the girl, then?" Jensen asks on the tail end of lips sucking spit to Bradley's cheek. "All pretty, and made up?" Jensen straddles the chair and Bradley's thighs, pushing his crotch in close to be pressed to Bradley's, all heat through jeans and shirts and Bradley's fingers are caught between their bodies.

Bradley's eyes are caught by Colin's fingers in the other guy's hair, the idle swirl of strands while Colin is watching him. Bradley's mouth's all dry.

"He fuck you into the mattress every night?" Jensen asks as he brushes his thumbs over Bradley's eyelids, forcing his eyes closed and shutting out Colin and the swanky hotel room and the mini bar they haven't even half depleted yet. Bradley wants to protest this and beg for something else to drink and just make some kind of noise that's the right level of _this_ , but he only thrusts his hips up against Jensen's body and Jensen's presses his lips to Bradley's, leaving him no choice but to leave his questions and _please_ and _goddamn_ noises in Jensen's mouth.

Bradley curls his fingers between them, uncurls them again and shoves them down against his cock, rocking up against the palm of his hand while Jensen's hot cock, rough jeans covering it, pushes against his knuckles.

"I want to show you off," Jensen says, then goes in for another kiss, sucking on Bradley's lips until they tingle and feel slick to his own tongue. "All broad shoulders and hair and cock and-" Jensen tips Bradley's head back and leans in to bite at his throat.

Bradley's eyes fall open and he watches Colin upside down. Colin with someone else's head in his crotch, someone else's hair between his fingers and tense fingers drumming on his thigh as he's watching.

"They line up to fuck all the girls I bring them," Jensen says and shifts up to kiss Bradley again.

"Not a girl," Bradley says, and Jensen looks strange through the haze of the lashes, the weight of paint heavy and clumpy on them. Bradley drags his tongue over his lips again, the slick, wet, strange sensation of something foreign.

Jensen catches his chin between thumb and fingers and leans in close, noses touching. "You are now," he whispers, whiskey and sex. He pulls Bradley's lip between his teeth, and Bradley moves forward into the contact, dragging his tongue over Jensen's teeth until Jensen clamps his hand on Bradley's shoulder. "Sit back and get fucked," Jensen says. He squeezes Bradley's lips between his fingers, puckers them up, then presses his own lips to them and fucks his tongue into Bradley's mouth.

Bradley watches him, cross-eyed, all closed eyes and the fingers clenched on Bradley's shoulder until Jensen pulls away and watches him in return. He skims his knuckles over Bradley's cheek, the stubble on his jaw and Bradley feels himself flush, sweat breaking out under his arms and everything gets too hot, too close, Jensen not buggering off from where he is perched on his lap.

"Never seen a girl as pretty as you," Jensen says and Bradley's eyes skitter to the other bloke kneeling between Colin's open thighs. Jensen chuckles and reaches past Bradley for the whiskey abandoned on the dresser. He brings the glass to Bradley's lips, tips it and Bradley drinks and swallows and nearly splutters it all down his front. "Never seen someone beg so much for a fuck either," Jensen says into Bradley's ear before he presses another bite to his jaw.

"I'm not," Bradley gets out, whiskey spit clinging to his lips.

"Oh but you are, buddy." Jensen brushes his thumb over Bradley's brow, then pushes his eyelids closed, and nd grinds his arse down against Bradley's crotch. He rolls his hips against Bradley's with steady motions, the slow drag of his jeans over Bradley's, his cock pressing hard and hot to the crook of Bradley's thigh. "Do you get down on your knees for him every night?" Jensen leans in so very fucking close, his chin rough against Bradley's cheek. "I bet you rub up against him because you can't stand it anymore, just want his cock to push into your ass or your mouth, you'll take it any way, hm?"

Bradley's breath catches. "We're not," he says and feels stupid when he's this hard and when this is this heady, but they can notch it up to some strange drunken L.A experience, the con and its buzz still bubbling under their skins. 

Jensen laughs, dark, throaty chuckles. "He can't stop watching you, you know. Got one hell of a mouth working his cock but he can't stop looking at you." Jensen pushes his hips down, riding Bradley's clothed cock, and then he shifts off and away.

Bradley opens his eyes, can't resist the movement happening in the corner of his eye, the slurping noise, a moan from Colin that makes him harder. Just the thought of his mouth on Colin's cock makes him strain for it, anything. Before he can turn his head to watch, Jensen's fingers grip his chin. 

The mirror on the far wall behind Jensen reflects them both, the shadow of stubble on Bradley's face, the makeup on top of it, not for a laugh, except for maybe right at first, but then just for this, for having Jensen look at him like this.

"Yeah, you need it, don't you?" Jensen says and pushes two fingers into Bradley's mouth. They're salty on Bradley's tongue, push their way in, not in any kind of careful hello-hi-there but sliding to the back of Bradley's tongue, uncomfortable, hard and pressing in deeper, not letting up.

Bradley grasps Jensen's wrist but Jensen's only raises an eyebrow back at him. "You can take it," he says, voice rasping over the sounds. He steps in closer, makes space for himself between Bradley's thighs until Bradley can feel his heat right there. "How many cocks have you had?" Jensen asks, slipping his fingers out a little, then pushing them back in, leaving some of that lipstick taste to dissolve amidst the spit.

Bradley's trying to shake his head because Colin is right there, listening, he must be listening to this. 

"Pretty girl like you, opening so easily, can't get you off your knees begging for it, I bet," Jensen continues, then steps back and with his fingers curled around Bradley's shoulder, pulls him off the chair and down, until Bradley's knees hit the floor and his face is mashed to Jensen's thigh, Jensen's fingers still in his mouth.

Jensen's cock is pressed to Bradley's forehead and the whimper in Bradley's throat that he can't keep back, it makes Jensen chuckle and shush him and shift him around with his knee pressed to Bradley's side. He slide his hand around and tips Bradley's face up, makes him strain to meet Jensen's eyes. 

"You're perfect like this," Jensen says.

Bradley tries to shake his head because he can't be, not when he can feel his cock straining against his jeans, and the weight of the make-up on his face. "Not a girl," he says around the fingers in his mouth, spit slipping out and down his chin. He tries to rub it off on his shoulder but Jensen won't let him, just watches him and the next time he slides his fingers all the way to the back of Bradley's throat it's three of them.

Bradley gags a bit, coughing, but Jensen's hand slips to the back of his neck and he doesn't let him up and doesn't let him pull away.

"You deserve to be all done up like this all the time, done up and shown off. I could take you to a party, tell anyone they're free to touch you and use you up, how you're prettiest on your knees with your eyes so wide and your lips all stretched." Jensen pulls his fingers from Bradley's mouth and Bradley splutters, spit stringing between Jensen's fingers and Bradley's lips as Jensen fumbles with his fly, pops the button and pushes his jeans down far enough to pull out his cock. He hooks his thumb into Bradley's mouth and pushes his cock inside after, not even asking, not hesitating and Bradley has to close his eyes, can't keep watching Jensen when the weight, the salty-sweat taste and musk and heat pushes down his tongue and forges a way to the back of his throat. "Tell anyone how good you are at taking cock, how you're hard for having anything in your mouth." The top of his shoe presses to Bradley's balls and Bradley strains against it, pushing down.

"How many cocks?" Jensen asks as he pulls out and pushes in again, pushing deeper, harder, grinding down and Bradley's not quite sure where the sounds he's making are coming from, over the slurp, the snotty breath, the way his eyes are already tearing up now, there's something else deep in his chest that makes him lean in closer, makes him twist his head into the touch of Jensen's fingers, moan when Jensen rubs his knuckles against the back of Bradley's neck, threading his fingers through his hair and just holds him close.

"How many?" Jensen asks again, but chuckles when Bradley only shakes his head. He shifts his grip on Bradley's head, thumb pressing to his jaw and slides just a little deeper, cockhead pressing down Bradley's throat.

Bradley kneels up, tries to twist away but Jensen moves with him, doesn't let him off for a breath or a word or a sound other than the bubbling spit and choking coughs, bends him half backwards as he stands with his feet on either side of Bradley's hips to keep his cock all the way down Bradley's throat. Bradley hooks his fingers into the beltloops of Jensen's jeans, keeps them there when every attempt to reach for Jensen's cock has Jensen cuff him around the head and push his hands away.

"He's watching you, thinking how he'll have you like this every night now. He might even doll you up all pretty if you ask him nicely." 

Jensen pulls out, and Bradley gets a few breaths and coughs and goes hot all over at the mess of spit and slime and precome that's slipping from his lips and dripping down his chin to his shirt, to Jensen's jeans. The buttons of Jensen's open fly press to his cheek when Jensen pushes in again, every thrust knocking the metal against Bradley's face. 

Colin moans, clear and distinct over the wet slurping sounds coming from Bradley's mouth, but Bradley can't see him, has his eyes closed when Jensen smudges his thumb over his lids, slipping in the tears on his cheeks and the mess on his chin. 

"You'll be good and swallow, won't you?" Jensen says and forces Bradley to lean back even further, bending him back until Bradley has to let go of Jensen and has to catch himself on his hands. "Yeah, you are," Jensen continues and fucks his cock in and out of Bradley's mouth. "You'll do him tomorrow, won't you, doll? Get on your knees and open your mouth until he strolls past and thinks he can use a blowjob? Keep your legs spread all pretty and your dick hard?" Jensen pushes his foot to Bradley's cock and as much as Bradley tries to resist he rides up against the pressure, moaning when Jensen uses the same moment to fuck his cock a little deeper, hold Bradley's head tight, until his face is pressed into Jensen's pubes. 

Bradley reaches up and slaps at Jensen's thigh once but Jensen only shushes him and shifts them a bit more, fucks in and out of Bradley's mouth, fucks through Bradley choking through it all, spit and gunk dribbling from his mouth and sliding down his neck, sticky and itchy and his throat hurts, his lips and tongue hurt, but Jensen is pushing on, making him take it, and he lets him.

"Such a good little girl," Jensen says, between breaths, thumbing at the corner of Bradley's mouth, pushing his thumb in alongside his dick, stretching Bradley's lips more. "Blowing fucking bubbles," Jensen adds and Bradley flushes, tries to twist away but Jensen grips is tight enough that he can't move. Jensen just chuckles. "Swallow," he says, then presses in all the way close, thighs pressed to Bradley's cheeks, hand on the back of Bradley's skull and Bradley's nose is pressed to Jensen's crotch, his cock all the way down his throat, and he can't breathe, can't move, his lungs protesting and body rolling for air, trying not to choke on cock, and then Jensen comes, grinds in a bit deeper and then pulls out enough that Bradley can taste his come before thrusting back in, moving Bradley's head instead of his hips, using him as something to fuck his cock into and as something that swallows it all down.

Bradley tries, then coughs, gags, swallow gunk and slime and come as good as he can but most of it still slips down his chin, wets his neck and the front of his shirt. Jensen is still thrusting, dragging more of the mess out of Bradley's mouth with every pull back and feeding more back to him as he pushes inside until he pulls out all the way, strings of spit connecting his cock and Bradley's lips until they snap.

Bradley's coughing, tries to wipe at his chin but Jensen presses his hand back down, then tips Bradley's face up.

"Look at me, hm?" Jensen says, thumb on Bradley's cheek.

Bradley can't not but it's hard when Jensen is right there, looking down at him, cataloging every bit of the mess Bradley is right now. Bradley catches a glimpse of himself in the far mirror, colours smudged over his face, his lips bright red and sore, the mess down his front.

"Got to practice a bit more, doll," Jensen says and drops down to one knee, brushes his thumb over Bradley's chin and feeds some of the mess back into his mouth. Bradley closes his lips on the thumb, doesn't even think, suck a bit and Jensen chuckles, all warm and close, and brushes at the tears on Bradley's cheek.

"You'll beg him, won't you?" Jensen says and turns Bradley's face around to Colin. 

Colin's trousers are open, dick soft now as Jensen's bloke only noses at it, mouths at it. Colin's fingers are still in the bloke's hair, holding on. 

"He wants to have you on your knees, looking like this every night," Jensen whispers into Bradley's ear. He reaches down and unbuttons Bradley's jeans, pulls his cock out, hard, wet, so fucking aroused Bradley just wants to fuck it into something now. 

Jensen pushes Bradley's hand to rub over the mess on his chin, then down to his crotch, makes him close his fingers on his cock, and he tries to look down, just to see the mess he's made but Jensen forces his head back up, forces him to look right at Colin. 

"Come on, pretty," Jensen says.

Bradley squeezes his fingers around his cock, hand wet with everything, Jensen's come, his spit, and pushes into the touch of his hand, into the tight circle, fucking his own hand while Colin is watching him and Jensen is still so close, breathing out over his cheek. 

"He'll want to use you until you can't see straight, bend you over, fuck into you, and know you'll drop to your knees when he so much as nods at you," Jensen says.

Jensen is so close but Bradley only looks at Colin as he pulls on his cock, watches Colin's eyes go wide and his mouth fall open, watches his fingers clench into fists and his throat move.

"He wants you like this every night, pretty and messy and his to show off. Everyone wants to show off their pretty girlfriend," Jensen says, and Bradley wants to protest and shakes his head, but Jensen only laughs. "Come now, let him see it."

Bradley bites his lip to keep from making more of the embarrassing sounds, his breath raspy as it flows from his throat, but he isn't closing his eyes but keeps them on Colin because Colin is looking at him, watching him, cataloging every little thing about him. His muscles clench up, chest and stomach and thighs tight and Bradley comes, come splurging over his head and sliding down to his wrist, dripping from there to his jeans, probably the carpet, making a mess of this.

He's breathing hard, just kneeling there, hips moving through the small aftershocks, everything warm and good and a bit jittery and a bit exposed. He stills eventually, fingers still around his cock, just kneels there, breathing in and out, noisy, wet, raspy breaths.

"Fuck you're pretty," Jensen says, low, and pushes Bradley's hair from his forehead then presses a kiss to the corner of his lips.

Bradley rubs along his cock, shudders, where's the whiskey now. "Yeah?" Bradley asks, voice raw, still looking at Colin, fingers still closed around his cock, sticky and clammy and a little reckless. 

Colin looks back at him, the moment stretching, then gives a short, jerky nod. Bradley looks down at his cock, the mess he's made over his hand and the carpet and his clothes. He'd drop to his knees for this every night easily, just for that look in Colin's eyes when he glances up again.

L.A.'s waking up now, the first hint of sun and the rising noise of cars, but Bradley figures he can stay right here, on his knees, and it will be okay.


End file.
